


Sizzling Like a Snare

by FreshBrains



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Community: rogueonekink, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hot Weather, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, POV Cassian Andor, Post-Movie(s), Tatooine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: Cassian can’t decide where to look, so he glances up at Bodhi’s face, which was not a great idea, because Bodhi is smiling and dirt-streaked, his black hair tugged up in a messy knot, his goggles balanced precariously above his brow. So he looks down and wants to die, because where he expected bare skin, Bodhi has two small silvery rings, one in each nipple, glinting tauntingly in the sun.“Those are new,” Cassian says, rubbing a hand down his face. “Not a bad look.”Bodhi’s brow furrows and he huffs out a laugh. “Not so new. New toyou, maybe.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the DW rogueonekink prompt: [Bodhi has pierced nipples. Cassian is fine with this.](http://rogueonekink.dreamwidth.org/1084.html?thread=199740#cmt199740)
> 
> In this AU, I imagine this taking place after _Return of the Jedi_ canon, so about 4 years after the film.

Cassian already hates this damned desert rock Jyn dragged them to, the one where Leia slayed the Hutt and where her men escaped the Sarlacc pit. It was considerably quieter than before, but there were whispers of old Jedi information hidden among the hundreds of dome-like moisture farms and small settlements, information that could assist Skywalker in reforming the Jedi temple.

Not one to put too much stock in mysticism, Cassian originally wanted to decline the opportunity, but Jyn and Chirrut were adamant, so down they went.

Upon arrival, Jyn immediately strips down to her cargos and a tank, hair bound up in a sash. It was a sight Cassian might have enjoyed if not for the dour look on her sun-red face as her feet skid along the unforgiving sand. Bodhi, Baze, and Chirrut seem used to the dust, their mouths covered in the types of masks and cloths they used on Jedha, but they too are unaccustomed to the heat.

“We’re heading towards the lake where Skywalker used to live,” Jyn says, fanning herself with an abandoned sheet of plasteel. “His mentor lived nearby and hid caches of datapads concerning the Old Republic and the temple on Coruscant.” She glances up at K2-SO. “I hope you brought a shovel.” The droid’s shoulders sag dramatically.

“Sounds like a full day’s work,” Baze says gruffly, loading a tin sled with the rusty tools they keep in the large cargo hold of their ship. It’s an old model, probably a repurposed Imperial craft, though Bodhi remains tight-lipped on its origins. “And at least there will be water.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Jyn says. “Lake is a subjective term here.”

“Excellent,” Chirrut says, trying to infuse some cheer into the heat-weary group. “Let’s begin. Burning daylight, I suppose.”

“You have no idea,” Baze says as they make their way out of the landing station. “This planet has _two_ suns.”

Bodhi lingers a bit, wiping his sweaty forehead with his wrist. “I think I’ll hang back. Work on some repairs.” He slaps the side of the ship and winces at the hot durasteel.

Cassian bites back a grin. “Need company? I can tell Jyn will only tolerate me for a short time today.”

Bodhi grins. “I’ll manage. I’m putting you on water duty. This place looks like a bartering planet, so you better get to work.” He tosses Cassian a pouch. Cassian opens it to find six coins of local currency. He raises an eyebrow at Bodhi, who just shrugs. “You’ve got to work fast around here, my guy.”

Cassian laughs and tucks the money into his belt. If he feels his cheeks go a little warm, he blames the sun, not the easiness of Bodhi’s humor or the sheen of sweat on his collarbone.

*

By the time Cassian gets back to the station, he feels it must be nearing nighttime, but the sun is still high in the sky, the sand still hot as Mustafar. He has two jugs of water to show for his effort at least. It will keep them hydrated for the remainder of the day and through the night, but depending on how far the others got down in the valley, he’d have to do it all over again the next day.

When he nears the ship, he can hear the buzzing of a saw and the familiar shower of sparks coming out from beneath the belly of the craft. All he can see are Bodhi’s scuffed boots and the legs of his coveralls, both dusty with sand.

Cassian kicks at Bodhi’s foot. “Mission accomplished. _Agua_ for all.” He hears Bodhi cheer before the other man crawls out. When he straightens up and powers off his saw, Cassian nearly drops the full water jugs right into the sand.

Bodhi is bare from the waist up. His coveralls are rolled down and bunched around his slim hips, revealing a trail of dark hair down by his navel. Cassian can’t decide where to look (or where _not_ to look), so he glances up at Bodhi’s face, which was not a great idea, because Bodhi is smiling and dirt-streaked, his black hair tugged up in a messy knot, his goggles balanced precariously above his brow. So he looks _down_ , again, and wants to die, because where he expected bare skin, Bodhi has two small silvery rings, one in each nipple, glinting tauntingly in the sun.

“Those are new,” Cassian says, rubbing a hand down his face. “Not a bad look.”

Bodhi’s brow furrows and he huffs out a laugh. “Not so new. New to _you_ , maybe.” He grabs the forgotten water jug from Cassian and brings the lip to his mouth. He drinks carefully, not spilling a drop, but as his throat bobs under his hearty gulps, Cassian wants nothing more than to see water spill down his chest and glance off his piercings. Bodhi finishes, wiping his mouth, and hands the jug back to Cassian. His eyes have gone as dark as black jewels. “So it’s going to be that kind of afternoon, is it?”

Cassian groans. “It’s only the _afternoon_? What a nightmare.” But he’s already following Bodhi up the ladder and into the ship, stripping off his shirt in the process. The water remains abandoned down below, waiting for the others, so Cassian feels no guilt about locking the hatch behind them.

“It’s been awhile,” Bodhi says, wriggling the rest of the way out of his coveralls. They sleep communally on bunks in the ship, three high, but there’s a battered sleeping couch behind the cockpit Cassian has been dying to fuck Bodhi on for the better part of the year. “Not too tired? I thought you might’ve been getting soft, Captain.”

Bodhi’s teasing brings back all the memories Cassian carefully stockpiles away for dry spells—the way Bodhi gasps and moans when he’s getting fucked, the sight of his work-rough hands plastered against durasteel walls and floors while Cassian rails him from behind, the velvety planes of his back and hips and ass under Cassian’s eager touch. They’ve never been _lovers_ in the way of marriages and devotions, but they enjoy each other in other ways, ways that satisfy them both just fine.

He growls and snatches Bodhi in by his waist, tugging the other man against him. Bodhi is still tacky and warm from working in the heat, and Cassian leans down to press a kiss to his neck. “And here I thought _you_ might’ve been getting sweet.”

Bodhi laughs and swears, arching into Cassian’s mouth. “I got these in Naboo,” he says. He walks them back to the couch and shoves Cassian down, immediately crawling into Cassian’s lap. He’s naked except for his goggles and those damn piercings. “They like pretty things there, you know. I had some little handmaiden telling me how she thought,” he pauses, gasping as Cassian tugs him closer, lips trailing down his neck, “how she thought my body was a temple.”

Cassian laughs before nipping at Bodhi’s collarbone. “Bantha fodder. Your skinny ass is barely a tent on Jakku.”

“Tell that to her nice lips,” Bodhi says, cuffing Cassian on the ear. “Now put your mouth on me, fool. That’s what they’re there for.” He arches a little more before getting impatient, dragging Cassian’s hand up to his chest. “Work at them, too. Gently.” He leans forward so his lips brush Cassian’s in a teasing whisper. “Sort of like a woman’s pleasure-spot.”

Cassian knows he should groan, should laugh at Bodhi and his vulgar mouth, but the words send a bolt of arousal straight down his spine. His squeezes at Bodhi’s pectorals—he’s not soft like a woman, but the feeling of the metal against his palms makes him work at the muscle like he’d do with a woman’s tits, thumbs drifting to rub at his nipples.

Bodhi groans at this, throaty and low. His hips shift in Cassian’s lap, ass rolling against Cassian’s hard cock. Cassian locks an arm around his waist, holding him in place so he can’t worm away when Cassian lowers his mouth to Bodhi’s chest and takes one of the rings between his teeth. The small of Bodhi’s back is slick with sweat. Cassian glances up at him and winks before giving the ring a tug.

At first, Bodhi yelps like a kicked felinx, body startling in Cassian’s lap, but then he shivers into it, hands winding in Cassian’s messy hair. “That’s the spirit,” he says huskily, shifting his knees so he’s sitting more firmly on Cassian’s clothed cock.

Cassian soothes the abused skin with a long, slow lick, leaving a sheen of saliva on Bodhi’s chest, before moving onto the other side. “If I would’ve know you’d react like this, I would’ve had K2 put some holes in you years ago.” This time, he encloses his mouth over Bodhi’s nipple and presses the flat of his tongue to the piercing, sucking at it until the skin around it goes red and bruised.

Bodhi presses into it, body shaking every time Cassian reaches up and pinches at the wet skin. “You’re a strange man,” he manages, though the words are not unpleasant to hear. “Now let me take your cock out before I come all over your only clean pants.”

“Such a charmer,” Cassian grumbles, and nips at Bodhi’s chest one more time before dumping the other man on his back onto the couch. He tugs his flies open with one hand and shoves down his pants before descending back down onto Bodhi, wrapping the other man’s legs around his hips. “Too hot to fuck, so I’m going to have you rub up against me until we both spend like boys, _nene_.”

Bodhi swallows hard and nods, hands already lifting, wrists bared so Cassian can hold him down against the couch. He always had a bit of sweet submission in him when the time was right, when he felt safe and comfortable with Cassian by his side. “Tug them again,” he murmurs, rolling his hips up so his own cock presses along the length of Cassian’s. “With your teeth.”

He comes like that, back bowed off the couch, Cassian’s teeth clamped onto one of his piercings, cock riding along the crease of Cassian’s hip. As he shakes through it, body gone soft with the aftershocks, Cassian hauls his legs up so his can press his cock against Bodhi’s ass.

“Thought you said it was too hot,” Bodhi says desperately, wanting nothing more than for Cassian to fill him up and make him fall apart once more.

“There are other ways,” Cassian says, and spits in his hand, smearing the wetness against Bodhi’s entrance. “Keep your legs spread for me.” He ruts against Bodhi, sweat dripping down his forehead, hair wild as a beast’s.

Bodhi just groans and keeps groaning, head flung back against the arm of the couch. His chest is bruised and aching; there will be red and purple marks there soon, along with the unmistakable imprint of Cassian’s teeth all along the outside of his nipples, which are puffy and swollen after being tugged and teased. He’ll have to take the piercings out and clean them.

“May the force be with that Naboo handmaiden,” Cassian grits out, and ruts against Bodhi one last time, coming hot against Bodhi’s ass. Bodhi feels the wetness drip down onto the couch and clamps his legs tight around Cassian’s waist, trying to keep the worst of it on his skin.

“You’re an animal,” Bodhi whines, wriggling out of Cassian’s grasp. Cassian finally releases his wrists, panting with exertion. “Jyn will murder you for this.” The entire couch beneath him is sticky with come and sweat. He lets his legs fall to the side, feeling sore and loose.

As if on cue, three hard bangs sound out from beneath the ship’s hatch. Cassian glances outside to see that the suns have set, bathing Tatooine in a low orange glow. He grins and leans down to kiss Bodhi softly, gently—their first kiss of the evening. “I guess we better let them in,” he says, running his fingers along Bodhi’s sides.

“I guess,” Bodhi agrees, sinking deeper into the couch, content to let the sunset wash over their spent bodies.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Lana Del Rey's "Summertime Sadness."


End file.
